the very extraordinary success he met with from public encouragement made an ample amends, both with respect to satisfaction and omolument, for those private disappointments: for, in the season of 1727-28, appeared his Beggar's Opera, the success of which was not only unprecedented, but almost incredible, It had an uninterrupted run in London of sixty-three nights in the first season, and was renewed in the ensuing one with equal approbation, It spread into all the great towns of England; was played in many places to the thirtieth and fortieth time, and at Bath and Bristol fifty; made its progress into Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, in which last place it was acted for twenty-four successive nights, and last of all it was performed at Minorca. Nor was the fame of it confined to the reading and representation alone, for the card-table and the drawing-room shared with the theatre and the closet in this respect; the ladies carried about the favourite songs of it engraven on their fan-mounts, and screens and other pieces of furniture were decorated with the same. Miss Fenton, who acted Polly, though till then perfectly obscure, became all at once the idol of the town; her pictures were engraven, and sold in great numbers; her life written; books of letters and verses to her published; and pamphlets made of even her very sayings and jests; nay, she herself was received to a station, in consequence of which she, before her death, attained the highest rank a female subject can acquire, being married to the Duke of Bolton. In short, the satire of this piece was so striking, so apparent, and so perfectly adapted to the taste of sll degrees of people, that it even for that season overthrew the Italian opera, that Dagon of the nobility and gentry, which had so long seduced them to idolatry, and which Dennis, by the labours and outeries of a whole life, and many other writers, by the force of reason and reflection had in vain endeavoured to drive from the throne of public taste. Yet the Herculean exploit did this little piece at once bring to its completion, and for some time recalled the devotion of the town from an adoration of mere sound and show, to the admiration of, and relish for, true satire and sound understandings The profits of this piece were so very great, both to the author and Mr. Rich the manager, that it gave rise to a qnibble, which became frequent in the mouths of many, viz. That it had made Rich gay, and Gay rich; and we have heard it asserted, that the author's own advantages from it were not less than two thousand pounds. In consequence of this success, Mr. Gay was induced to write a second part to it, which he entitled Polly. But, owing to the disgust subsisting between him and the court, together with the misrepresentations made of him, as having been the author of some disaffected libels and seditious pamphlets, a charge which, however, he warmly disavows in his preface to this opera, a prohibition of it was sent from the Lord Chamberlain, at the very time when every thing was in readiness for the rehearsal of it. This disappointment, however, was far from being a loss to the author; for, as it was afterwards confessed, even by his very best friends, to be in every respect infinitely inferior to the first part, it is more than probable, that it might have failed of that great success in the representation which Mr. Gay might promise himself from it; whereas the profits arising from the publication of it afterwards in quarto, in consequence of a very large subscription, which this appearance of persecution, added to the author's great personal interest procured for him, were at least adequate to what could have accrued to him from a moderate run, had it been represented. He afterwards new wrote The Wife of Bath, which was the last dramatic piece by him that made its appearance during his life; his opera of Achilles, the comedy of the Distrest Wife, and his farce of The Rehearsal at Goatham, being brought on the stage or published after his death. Besides these, Mr. Gay wrote many very valuable pieces in verse; among which his Trivia; or, The Art of walking in the Streets of London; though one of his first oetical attempts, is far from being the least considerable; but, as among his dramatic works, his Beggar's Opera did et first, and perhaps ever will, stand as an unrivalled masterpiece, so, among his poetical works, his Fables hold the same rank of estimation: the latter having been almost as universally read as the former was represented, and both qually admired. It would therefore be superfluous here to add any thing further to these self-reared monuments of is fame as a poet. As a man, he appears to have been morally amiable. His disposition was sweet and affable, his emper generous, and his conversation agreeable aud entertaining. He had indeed one foible, too frequently incident to nen of great literary abilities, and which subjected him at times to inconveniences, which otherwise he needed not to have experienced, viz, an excess of indolence, which prevented him from exerting the full force of his lalents. He was, However, not inattentive to the means of procuring an independence, in which he would probably have succeeded, had hot his spirits been kept down by disappointments. He had, however, saved several thousand pounds at the time of his death, which happened at the house of the Duke and Dutchess of Queensberry in Burlington Gardens, in December 732. He was interred in Westminster Abbey, and a monument erected to his memory, at the expense of his afore mentioned noble benefactors, with an inscription expressive of their regards and his own deserts, and an epitaph in erse by Mr. Pope; but, as both of them are still in existence, and free of access to every one, it would be imperinent to repeat either of them in this place.

By John Gay, Acted at Lincoln's Inn fields. The great success of this piece has rendered its merits sufficiently nown. It was written in ridicule of the musical Italian drama, was first offered to Cibber and his brethren at Drury ane, and by them rejected. Of the origin and progress of this new species of composition, Mr. Spencer has given a elation in the words of Pope: "Dr. Swift had been observing once to Mr. Gay, what an odd pretty sort of thing a Newgate pastoral might make. Gay was inclined to try at such a thing for some time; but afterwards thought it would e better to write a comedy on the same plan. This was what gave rise to The Beggar's Opera. He began on it; nd when first he mentioned it to Swift, the doctor did not much like the project. As he carried it on, he showed 2 to both of us, and we now and then gave a correction, or a word or two of advice; but it was wholly of his own riting. When it was done, neither of us thought it would succeed. We showed it to Congreve, who, after reading over, said, it would either take greatly, or be damned confoundedly. We were all at the first night of it, in very reat uncertainty of the event, till we were very much encouraged, by overhearing the Duke of Argyle, who sat in the ext box to us, say, 'It will do; it must do; 1 see it in the eyes of them.' This was a good while before the first

ct was over, and so gave us case soon for that Duke (besides his own good taste) has a particular knack, as any one ving, in discovering the taste of the public. He was quite right in this, as usual; the good-nature of the audience ppeared stronger and stronger every act, and ended in a clamour of applause." Many persons, however, have decried is piece; written, and even preached in the pulpit, against it, from mistaking the design of it; which was, not to ecommend the characters of highwaymen, pickpockets, and strumpets, as examples to be followed, but to show that e principles and behaviour of many persons in what is called high life were no better than those of highwaymen, ieves, sharpers, and strumpets. Nor can these characters be seductive to persons in low life, when they see that they ast all expect to be hanged. 'Tis what we must all come to, says one of them; and it is a kind of miracle, if they Outinue six months in their evil courses. This fellow, says Peachum, if he were to live these six months, would never me to the gallows with any grace. The women of the town are far from being made desirable objects; since they re all shown to be pickpockets and shoplifters, as well as ladies of pleasure; and so treacherous, that even those who cem fondest of Macheath, at the very time they are caressing him, are beckoning behind his back to the thief-taker ad constables to lay hold of him. Sir Robert Walpole was frequently the subject of Mr. Gay's satire. The minister owever, was not deterred from attending the performance of the poet's Beggar's Opera. Being in the stage boxes at s first representation, a most universal encore attended the following air of Lockit, and all eyes were directed on the minister at the instant of its being repeated:

When you censure the age,

Be cautious and sage,

Lest the courtiers offended should be:

If you mention vice or bribe

'Tis so pat to all the tribe,
That each cries, That was levell'd at me!

ir Robert, observing the pointed manner in which the audience applied the last line to him, parried the thrust by coring it with his single voice; and thus not only blunted the poetical shaft, but gained a general huzza from the #dience.

Through all the employments of life,
Each neighbour abuses his brother:
Whore and rogue, they call husband and wife:
All professions be-rogue one another.
The priest calls the lawyer a cheat;
The lawyer be-knaves the divine;
And the statesman, because he's so great,
Thinks his trade is as honest as mine.

holden to women, than all the professions besides.

AIR.-FILCH.

Tis woman that seduces all mankind;

By her we first were taught the wheedling arts;
Her
very eyes can cheat; when most she's kind,
She tricks us of our money, with our hearts.
For her, like wolves by night, we roam for prey,
And practise every fraud to bribe her charms;
For, suits of love, like law, are won by pay,
And beauty must be fee'd into our arms.

Peach. But make haste to Newgate, boy, and let my friends know what I intend; for I love to make them easy, one way or another. Filch. When a gentleman is long kept in A lawyer is an honest employment, so is mine. Like me too, he acts in a double ca- suspense, penitence may break his spirit ever pacity, both against rogues, and for them; after. Besides, certainty gives a man a good for 'tis but fitting, that we should protect air upon his trial, and makes him risk another, and encourage cheats, since we live by them. without fear or scruple. But I'll away, for 'tis a pleasure to be a messenger of comfort to friends in affliction.

Enter FILCH.

Filch. Sir, Black Moil has sent word, her trial comes on in the afternoon, and she hopes you will order matters so as to bring her off. Peach. Why, as the wench is very and industrious, you may satisfy her that I'll

soften the evidence.

tomer.

active

[Exit.

Peach. But it is now high time to look about me, for a decent execution against next sessions. hate a lazy rogue, by whom one can get nothing till he is hanged. A register of the gang. [Reading] Crook-finger'd Jack -a year and a half in the service-let Filch. Tom Gagg, sir, is found guilty. me see, how much the stock owes to his inPeach. A lazy dog! When I took him, dustry;-One, two, three, four, five gold A mighty the time before, I told him what he would watches, and seven silver ones. come to, if he did not mend his hand. This clean-handed fellow sixteen snuff-boxes, five is death, without reprieve. I may venture to of them of true gold, six dozen of handkerbook him; [Writes] for Tom Gagg, forty chiefs, four silver-hilted swords, half-a-dozen pounds 1). Let Betty Sly know, that I'll save of shirts, three tie-perriwigs, and a piece of her from transportation, for I can get more broadcloth. Considering these are only the by her staying in England. fruits of his leisure hours, I don't know a Filch. Betty hath brought more goods to prettier fellow; for no man alive hath a more our lock this year, than any five of the gang; engaging presence of mind upon the road.— and, in truth, is pity to lose so good a cus-Wai Dreary, alias Brown Will—an irregular dog; who hath an underhand way of disposing of Peach. If none of the gang takes her off2), his goods 1); I'll try him only for a sessions she may, in the common course of business, or two longer, upon his good behaviour.live a twelvemonth longer. I love to let wo- Harry Paddingtona poor petty-larceny men 'scape. A good sportsman always lets rascal, without the least genius! that fellow, the hen-partridges fly, because the breed of though he were to live these six months, wił the game depends upon them. Besides, here never come to the gallows with any credit.the law allows us no reward: there is nothing Slippery Sam-he goes off the next sessions; to be got by the death of women-except our for the villain hath the impudence to have wives. views of following his trade as a tailor, which Filch. Without dispute, she is a fine wo- he calls an honest employment,- Mat-o'the man! 'Twas to her I was obliged for my Mint-listed not above a month ago; a proeducation. To say a bold word, she has mising, sturdy fellow, and diligent in his way; trained up more young fellows to the busi- somewhat too bold and hasty, and may raise ness, than the gaming-table. good contributions on the public, if he does Peach. Truly, Filch, thy observation is not cut himself short by murder), -Tom right. We and the surgeons 3) are more be- Tipple-a guzzling, soaking sot, who is al 1) Blood money, as it is called, or the sum paid to any ways too drunk to stand himself, or to make one for the conviction of a person who has committed others stand 3) a cart 4) is absolutely necessary a robbery. Peachum's character has, unfortunately, but too many traits of what is done every day in London. Marries her.

3) The bodies of those hanged for murder, are given over to the surgeons for dissection.

1) Sells his stolen goods to other people.
2) Get hanged for murdering some person.

3) The highway-robbers putting a pistol at your breat
and desiring you to stand, come upon you so andianit

for him.-Robin of Bagshot, alias Gorgon, What business bath he to keep company alias Bluff Bob, alias Carbuncle, alias with lords and gentlemen? he should leave Bob Bootythem to prey upon one another.

Enter MRS. PEACHUM.

Mrs. P. What of Bob Booty, husband? hope nothing bad hath betided him. - You know, my dear, he's a favourite customer of mine-'twas he made me a present of this ring.

Peach. Upon Polly's account! what a plague doth the woman mean?-Upon Polly's account!

Mrs. P. Captain Macheath is very fond of the girl.

Peach. And what then?

Mrs. P. If I have any skill in the ways of Peach. I have set his name down in the women, I am sure Polly thinks him a very black list, that's all, my dear; he spends his pretty man.

life among women, and, as soon as his mo- Peach. And what then? you would not be ney is gone, one or other of the ladies will so mad as to have the wench marry him! hang him for the reward, and there's forty Gamesters and highwaymen are, generally, pounds lost to us for ever! very good to their mistresses, but they are

Mrs. P. You know, my dear, I never meddle very devils to their wives.

in matters of death; I always leave those af- Mrs. P. But if Polly should be in love, how fairs to you. Women, indeed, are bitter bad should we help her, or how can she help herjudges in these cases; for they are so partial self?-Poor girl, I'm in the utmost concern to the brave, that they think every man hand-about her! some, who is going to the camp or the gallows.

AIR. MRS. PEACHUM.

If any wench Venus' girdle wear,
Though she be never so ugly,
Lilies and roses will quickly appear,
And her face look wondrous snugly.
Beneath the left ear, so fit for a cord,
A rope so charming a zone is,

AIR. MRS. PEACHUM.

If love the virgin's heart invade,
How like a moth, the simple maid
Still plays about the flame;

If soon she be not made a wife,
Her honour's sing'd, and then for life
She's what I dare not name,

Peach. Lookye, wife, a handsome wench,

The youth in the cart hath the air of a lord, in our way of business, is as profitable as at And we cry, There dies an Adonis! the bar of a Temple coffee-house, who looks But really, husband, you should not be too upon it as her livelihood, to grant every lihard-hearted, for you never had a finer, bra-berty but one. My daughter to me should ver set of men than at present. We have be like a court lady to a minister of state, a not had a murder among them all these seven key to the whole gang. Married! if the afmonths; and truly, my dear, that is a great fair is not already done, I'll terrify her from blessing. it, by the example of our neighbours.

Peach. What a dickens is the woman Mrs. P. Mayhap, my dear, you may injure always whimpering about murder for? No the poor girl: she loves to imitate the fine gentleman is ever looked upon the worse for ladies, and she may only allow the captain killing a man in his own defence; and if bu-liberties, in the view of interest.

[Exit.

siness cannot be carried on without it, what Peach. But 'tis your duty, my dear, to would you have a gentleman do? so, my dear, warn the girl against her ruin, and to instruct have done upon this subject. Was captain her how to make the most of her beauty. I'll Macheath here, this morning, for the bank-go to her this moment, and sift her. In the notes he left with you last week? mean time, wife, rip out the coronets and Mrs. P. Yes, my dear; and though the marks of these dozen of cambric handkerbank hath stopped payment, he was so cheer-chiefs, for I can dispose of them this afterful, and so agreeable! Sure, there is not a noon to a chap in the city. finer gentleman upon the road 1) than the Mrs. P. Never was a man more out of the captain; if he comes from Bagshot, at any way in an argument than my husband. Why reasonable hour, he hath promised to make must our Polly, forsooth, differ from her sex, one this evening, with Polly, me, and Bob and love only her husband? and why must Booty, at a party at quadrille. Pray, my dear, Polly's marriage, contrary to all observation, is the captain rich? make her the less followed by other men? Peach. The captain keeps too good com- All men are thieves in love, and like a wopany ever to grow rich. Marybone and the man the better for being another's property. chocolate-houses are his undoing. The man that proposes to get money by play, should have the education of a fine gentleman, and be trained up to it from his youth.

Mrs. P. Really, I am sorry, upon Polly's account, the captain hath not more discretion.

that is very difficult to obey their summons; and ladies, as well as the weaker part of the male sex, are much more inclined to fall, especially when they order! you to give your "money" or your "life." 4) Formerly, those cast for death, were conveyed in a cart, all through the streets of London, from Newgate prison to Tyburn; where they were hanged; but now

they are "launched into eternity" before the debtors'

door, Newgate,

1) A Highway-man

AIR. MRS. PEACHUM.

A maid is like the golden ore
Which hath guineas intrinsical in't,
Whose worth is never known before
It is tried and imprest in the mint.
A wife's like a guinea in gold,
Stamp'd with the name of her
spouse;
Now here, now there, is bought or is sold,
And is current in every house.

Enter FILCH.

of this child, as though my mind misgave me Mrs. P. Come hither, Filch.-I am as fond he were my own. He hath as fine a band

at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-fingered as a juggler. If an unlucky session does not cut the rope of thy life, pronounce, boy, thou wilt be a great man in history. Where was your post last night, my boy?

But when once pluck'd 'tis no longer alluring,
To Covent Garden 'tis sent (as yet, sweet),
There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all
enduring,

Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet. Peach. You know, Polly, I am not against Filch. I plied at the opera, madam; and, considering 'twas neither dark nor rainy, so the way of business, or to get out a secret your toying and trifling with a customer, in that there was no great hurry in getting chairs and coaches, made a tolerable hand or so; but if I find out that you have played the fool, and are married, you jade you, I'll on't-These seven handkerchiefs, madam. Mrs. P. Coloured ones, I see. They are of cut your throat, hussy. Now, you know my mind. sure sale from our warehouse at Redriff, among the seamen,

Filch. And this snuff-box.

Enter MRS. PEACHUM, in a very great Passion.

AIR.

Mrs. P. Set in gold! a pretty encourage- Our Polly is a sad slut! nor heeds what we ment this to a young beginner!

have taught her,

Filch. I had a fair tug at a charming gold watch. Plague take the tailors, for making wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter' the fobs so deep and narrow!-it stuck by For she must have both hoods and gowES. the way, and I was forced to make my esand hoops to swell her pride, cape under a coach. Really, madam, I fear With scarfs and stays, and gloves and lace, and I shall be cut off in the flower of my youth, so that, every now and then, since I was pumped, I have thoughts of taking up and going to sea.

she will have men beside; And when she's dress'd with care and cost, all tempting, fine, and gay, As men should serve a cucumber, she flings herself away.

Mrs. P. You should go to Hockley-in-thehole 1), and to Marybone, child, to learn va- You baggage! you hussy! you inconsiderate lour; these are the schools that have bred so jade! had you been hanged it would not have many brave men. I thought, boy, by this vexed me; for that might have been your time, thou hadst lost fear as well as shame. misfortune; but to do such a mad thing by Poor lad! how little does he know yet of the choice!-The wench is married, husband, Old Bailey! For the first fact, I'll insure thee Peach. Married! the captain is a bold man, from being hanged; and going to sea, Filch, and will risk any thing for money: to be sure will come time enough, upon a sentence of he believes her a fortune. Do you think your transportation. But, hark you, my lad, don't mother and I should have lived comfortably tell me a lie; for you know I hate a liar:- so long together if ever we had been married, Do you know of any thing that hath passed baggage! between captain Macheath and our Polly? Filch. I beg you, madam, don't ask me; for I must either tell a lie to you, or to miss Polly; for I promised her I would not tell.

Mrs. P. But when the honour of our family is concerned.

Mrs. P. I knew she was always a proud slut, and now the wench hath played the fool and married, because, forsooth, she would de like the gentry! Can you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in gaming and drinking? have you money enough to carry Filch. I shall lead a sad life with miss on the daily quarrels of man and wife about Polly, if ever she comes to know I told you. who shall squander most? If you must be Besides, I would not willingly forfeit my own married, could you introduce nobody ini honour, by betraying any body. our family but a highwayman? Why, thea

Mrs. P. Yonder comes my husband and foolish jade, thou wilt be as ill used and as Polly. Come, Filch, you shall go with me in-much neglected as if thou hadst married a to my own room, and tell me the whole story. lord!

Enter PEACHUM and POLLY.

I'll give thee a glass of a most delicious cor- Peach. Let not your anger, my dear, break dial that I keep for my own driuking. [Exeunt. through the rules of decency; for the captain looks upon himself, in the military capacity, Polly. I know as well as any of the fine as a gentleman by his profession. Besides ladies how to make the most of myself, and what he hath already, I know he is in a fair of my man too. A woman knows how to be way of getting or of dying; and both these mercenary, though she hath never been in a ways, let me tell you, are most excellent court or at an assembly. We have it in our chances for a wife. Tell me, hussy, are you natures, papa. If I allow captain Macheath ruined or no? some trifling liberties, I have this watch and other visible marks of his favour to show for it. A girl who cannot grant some things, and refuse what is most material, will make but a poor hand of her beauty, and soon be thrown upon the common.

AIR.-POLLY.

Virgins are like the fair flow'r in its lustre,
Which in the garden enamels the ground;
Near it the bees in play flutter and cluster,
And gaudy butterflies frolic around:
1) A famous-place for thieves and beggars.

Mrs. P. With Polly's fortune she might very well have gone off to a person of distinction: yes, that you might, you pouting slut.

Peach. What! is the wench dumb? speak, or I'll make you plead by squeezing out an answer from you. Are you really bound wife to him, or are you only upon liking?

[Pinches her.
Polly. Oh!
[Screaming
Mrs. P. How the mother is to be pitied
who hath handsome daughters! Locks, tulis,
bars, and lectures of morality, are nothing to

D

them; they break through them all; they have as much pleasure in cheating a father and mother, as in cheating at cards.

Peach. Why, Polly, I shall soon know if you are married, by Macheath's keeping from our house.

AIR. POLLY.

Can love be control'd by advice?
Will cupid our mothers obey?
Though my heart were as frozen as ice,
At his flame 'twould have melted away.
VVhen he kiss'd me, so sweetly he press'd,
Twas so sweet that I must have complied,
So I thought if both safest and best
To marry for fear you should chide.

Mrs. P. Then all the hopes of our family are gone for ever and ever!

Peach. I hear customers in t'other room;

go talk with them, Polly; but come again as soon as they are gone.-But hark ye, child, if 'tis the gentleman who was here yesterday about the repeating watch, say you can't get intelligence of it till to-morrow, for I lent it to Sukey Straddle, to make a figure with toPeach. And Macheath may hang his father night at a tavern in Drury-lane. If t'other and mother-in-law, in hopes to get into their gentleman calls for the silver-hilted sword, daughter's fortune. you know Beetle-browed Jemmy bath it on, Polly. I did not marry him (as 'tis the and he doth not come from Tunbridge till fashion), coolly and deliberately, for honour Tuesday night, so that it cannot be had till or money-but I love him, then. [Exit Polly] Dear wife, be a little paMrs. P. Love him! worse and worse! Icified; don't let your passion ruu away with thought the girl had been better bred. Oh your senses: Polly, I grant you, hath done a husband! husband! her folly makes me mad! rash thing.

my head swims! I'm distracted! I can't sup- Mrs. P. Ifshe had had only an intrigue with port myself-Oh! [Faints. the fellow, why the very best families have Peach. See, wench, to what a condition excused and huddled up a frailty of that sort, you have reduced your poor mother! A glass 'Tis marriage, husband, that makes it a blemish. of cordial this instant! How the poor woman Peach. But money, wife, is the true fullers'takes it to heart! [Polly goes out, and re-earth for reputations; there is not a spot or turns. with it] Ah, hussy! now this is the stain but what it can take out. I tell you, only comfort your mother has left. wife, I can make this match turn to our ad

Polly. Give her another glass, sir; my vantage. mamma drinks double the quantity whenever she is in this way. This, you see, fetches her. Mrs. P. The girl shows such readiness, and so much concern, that I almost could find in my heart to forgive her.

AIR.

O Polly, you might have toy'd and kiss'd :
By keeping men off, you keep them on.
Polly.
But he so teased me,
And he so pleased me,
What I did you must have done.

Mrs. P. Not with a highwayman-you sorry slut.

Mrs. P. I am very sensible, husband, that captain Macheath is worth money, but I am in doubt whether he hath not two or three wives already, and then, if he should die in a session or two, Polly's dower would come into dispute.

Peach. That indeed is a point which ought to be considered. The lawyers are bitter enemies to those in our way; they don't care that any body should get a clandestine livelihood but themselves.

Enter POLLY.

Polly. 'Twas only Nimming Ned: he brought in a damask window-curtain, a hoop-pettiPeach. A word with you, wife. 'Tis no coat, a pair of silver candlesticks, a perriwig, new thing for a wench to take a man with- and one silk stocking, from the fire that hapout consent of parents. You know 'tis the pened last night. frailty of woman, my dear!

Peach. There is not a fellow that is cleverer Mrs. P. Yes, indeed, the sex is frail; but in his way, and saves1) more goods out of the first time a woman is frail, she should be the fire, than Ned. But now, Polly, to your somewhat nice methinks, for then or never affair; for malters must not be as they are. is her time to make her fortune: after that You are married then, it seems? she hath nothing to do but to guard herself from being found out, and she may do what she pleases.

Peach. Make yourself a little easy; I have a thought shall soon set all matters again to rights. Why so melancholy, Polly? since what is done cannot be undone, we must endeavour to make the best of it.

Mrs. P. Well, Polly, as far as one woman can forgive another, I forgive thee. Your father is too fond of you, hussy.

Polly. Then all my sorrows are at an end. Mrs. P. A mighty likely speech in troth for a wench who is just married!

Polly. Yes, sir.

Peach. And how do you propose to live, child?

Polly. Like other women, sir; upon the industry of my husband.

Mrs. P. What! is the wench turn'd fool? a highwayman's wife, like a soldier's, hath as little of his pay as of his company.

Peach. And had not you the common views of a gentlewoman in your marriage, Polly? Polly. I don't know what you mean, sir. Peach Of a jointure, and of being a widow.

1) Steals.